


Burnin' Down the House

by Levade



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bitter thoughts, Gen, Indis is done, Resolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 23:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16147625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Levade/pseuds/Levade
Summary: Written for Ariana - who wanted Indis musing bitterly over her marriage with Finwe, and I hope this fills that prompt.  That said, I'm not a believer of staying bitter.  You get up, you move on and sometimes?  Sometimes you do some crazy things to purge that bitterness.





	Burnin' Down the House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ariana (Ariana_El)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariana_El/gifts).



 

It was a thought she guarded as closely as Fëanáro had kept his Silmarils, one that she had kept as her own for eons.

Indis wanted to burn the house.  Burn it and everything in the house, down to the foundations and then salt the very ground so nothing good ever grew there again.  All of her clothing.  All of the painting and books and all of the things with which she and Finwë had so carefully decorated their home.  All of it.  She wanted to step down the beautifully carved stairs, turn at the door, toss a torch on it all and watch the fire consume everything until all that was left was ashes.

And why not.  Had it not all be a lie?  And she, she had been the biggest fool of all to ever believe a word Finwë had said.    What had she been thinking to fall in love with a man whose first wife had decided that death was better than returning to him and her son?

Fool.  Clearly Miriel had much clearer vision and foreseen what was to come. 

Indis had clearly been the one who had been blind and stupid in giving her heart to Finwë.  True, he had given her beautiful children, but even they were gone now.  Most of them had followed Fëanáro across the seas.  Only Findis had gone to Valmar, to be near her uncle and cousins. 

Leaving Indis in the now too large house, empty of all the things that had made it a home.  She wandered from room to room, desperately trying not to hear the memories of joy and laughter that haunted her steps. 

She deliberately avoided the bedroom.  The room where she had given herself so happily, so purely to Finwë, sure that together they could heal his wounds and give Fëanáro the family he so clearly had been desperate for. 

Fëanáro had not wanted her though, and that one dissention had brought the entire dream crashing down. 

Because Finwë had never stopped trying to be the only and all for his son. 

Why had he even married her?  He should have just been happy for the child he had and raised Fëanáro.  Maybe then...

Indis turned and picked up one of the exquisite figures of herself and Finwë that had been given to them as a marriage gift.  The figures were smiling, dressed in wedding finery, and looking incredibly happy.  She didn't even hesitate, hurling it at a mirror that shattered with a resounding crash.  Another wedding gift followed, then another, each bursting into a thousand shards as they impacted the wall. 

How wonderful!  Indis laughed and knocked every single of the delicate wedding gifts off the shelf, dancing back as they shattered.  Eyes gleaming, she looked around the room.  So many reminders of her life with Finwë.  How easy it was to destroy them.

Had Finwë found it as easy as this to walk away from her and their life? 

Well.  She was not going to play the role of heart-broken widow and woman scorned.  She had done that for too long now.  Candles burned everywhere, lighting the darkness that followed the death of the Trees.

The death of so much.

Indis took up a branch of candles and stared into the darkness.  Turning in a circle, she saw the shadows, darting just out of the reach of the light and shook her head.  "No more." 

She should have done this long ago, when Finwë chose exile and his son over her.  But it wasn't too late.

 

* * *

 

He expected to be welcomed when he returned to his childhood home, welcomed as he had not been in his own home, though he could hardly blame Eärwen. 

Too much had happened, much too quickly.

He wasn't sure it would ever be put together again, but Arafinwë was determined to try.

Then again, he had not expected to find his childhood home burning, and his mother standing before it with a satisfied smile.  "Ammë?  Ammë!"  He ran to her and stared in fascinated shock.

Her golden hair, her beautiful golden hair, was gone, sheared raggedly from her head.  What remained stuck wildly out in tufts as she turned towards him in surprise.  "Ingoldo?" 

He stared at the people rushing around the courtyard, attempting to put the fire out, or at the least, keep it from spreading.  "What happened?"

"What needed to be done."  Putting hands in the pockets of her pants, Indis studied the fire.  "I finished what your father started."

 

**Author's Note:**

> My concept of the Vanyar is not quite the same as most of fandom. I always saw the Vanyar as fierce and fey, passionate people that the Valar kept close to keep them in check. Indis fits that so well, though canon would paint her as a victim. I've never liked that and never will. Thanks for reading and Ariana...well, I tried. Sorry, angst is not my cuppa. I'm more of a burn the bridge and break out the chocolate and marshmallows type.


End file.
